Hoshor Plains Forgiving's pretty hard

When the stranger looked his way, Sundance felt relief slacken the tension in his aching muscles. He released a slow breath through his teeth, silver ears drooping as he bowed his head in defeated acceptance of her observation. She was right: he looked awful because he felt awful. The court had dwindled, and naturally the willows were lost to him.

Again.

The pain of it came fresh to him once more, and dull powder hlue eyes squeezed shut as he battled with the demon of his inner guilt. Teya! Oh, how he hoped she was safe, wherever she was.

"I..." what? "I tried to..." Mouth promptly closing, he felt emotion rise to tighten its hold of his throat. He should've tried harder, he knew. He should've scoured every nook and cranny, turned every rock, sniffed every single blade of grass if it meant finding his companion.

If she was in danger? Sundance wasn't sure he could ever forgive himself, if his own fear prolonged her suffering. "I can't find my friend."